


Liminal Spaces

by orphan_account



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Best of both, M/M, Magic, Magic and Science, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-29
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-11 18:42:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7903522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spaces in which reality is seemingly altered, where the barrier between the everyday world and the otherworld are so thin that both can be experienced.</p><p>Or, in which, Keith is a necromancer that closes off rifts between this world and the next, and Lance is there to make sure he doesn't kill himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 24-hour service

**Author's Note:**

> Ahh, ok so another labor of love right here, posting it at an odd hour because I wanted to get it out. Sorry if there's some mistakes this is unbeta'd, if you see anything please let me know and I will correct it. This is sort of an odd idea that I wanted to explore, honestly. If you like it, give me some feedback, I love to hear from you guys!
> 
> Find me on tumblr at captainsomnia.tumblr.com

The gas station was abandoned not too long ago, only a month or so, but Lance couldn't help think that the place looked like shit already. The signature green, white and orange paneling around the top of the building was ripped off in various areas, and a mass amount of overgrowth was crawling up the greying painted bricks. In the darkness of dusk, Lance could hardly tell where the building's foundation had cracked into a crevice at one corner, the deterioration lost on him as he moved forward to the smoky glass door.

"Is there any place for these things to happen that isn't so... creepy?" Lance commented, trying to shrug off his unease about walking in the station. He pulled back the creaking door with some resistance, looking back at the dark haired boy behind him.

"You're overthinking it," Keith snipped as he walked into the crumbling building, shoulders set and eyes fierce.

"I know, but really?" Lance gestured to the darkness of the building as Keith fished his flashlight out of his bag, "This place has bad vibes."

"No it doesn't," Keith says passively, finally finding the light and turning it on. The room, with ghastly shadows breaking up the bright light beam, seemed even worse to Lance. He suppressed a shiver as he walked further in with Keith. "It's the rift, Lance. This place is completely normal, but the rift is... _very_ not normal."

Lance catches the way Keith's shoulders quake, watches the way the it rolls down his body in a shivering wave. "Yeah, the rift, I know."

The rift was quickly becoming Lance's least favorite thing, higher than Keith's infuriating mannerisms and Coran's cooking. He couldn't see it, but damn it if Lance couldn't feel it- the quivering unease that would swirl forebodingly in Lance's gut. It always snaked its way into the air of places it would inhabit. Truthfully, Lance didn't know exactly what the rift was, only that it had to be closed. 'At any cost, Lance,' He remembers Keith telling him one day.

Which was what Lance was doing here, standing in the yellow ray among goods and shelves thrown to the floor. He was here to be sure nothing could prevent the rift from closing, a task which Keith took seriously when the need arose. Though, Lance had yet to encounter anything other than a strolling security guard, which he quickly made sure to lead him far from Keith and his 'area'.

Lance heaved a large shelf out of the way of the middle of the room, leaving Keith to shove bags of chips and candy to the side. He sat in a corner of the small building, watching as Keith moved about setting up the small circle. The salts that were generously spread across a circular area in the middle of the room. Dried red clay followed it in a similar circular ring within the salt.

Keith's face was pure concentration as he went about spreading sigils in the space between the two rings, brows furrowed and dark eyes gleaming. His face was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, most likely thanks to the dry summer heat that continues to be overbearing well past the sun setting, and his lips moved. He was murmuring in some language that Lance couldn't understand, fast and choppy, like his breath that disturbed the dust around the room. Each exhale caused another wave of small particles to flash and darken in the light that was focused on Keith.

When the circle was done, Keith stood slowly, stepping back to pull his wiry hair into a small knot at the back of his head and shed the flannel he'd managed to keep on up until then. Lance huffed, amused at the dust that was disturbed, and fixed his hat, sticky and stiff with sweat.

"You might wanna do this quick, it's hot as hell in here."

Keith sneered, "You're fine."

Lance kept his mouth shut as Keith walked into the circle, knowing just how much these moments mattered. Keith sat slowly, shaking slightly and he gripped a charred wedge of green in one hand, the other drew a match against the grout of the cracked tile floor. The match flickered to a flame, and he quickly set the herbs on fire. The smell of them stung Lance's nose and made Keith cough when smoke began to rise right into his face.

The feeling in the room seemed to intensify as the smoke swirled up. The smooth ascent was stopped halfway to the low ceiling to dissipate. More continued to drift up until it was a heavy line of ash against the unseen force keeping it down.

_The rift._

Lance felt the room grow colder, goose bumps rising on his bare arms and shoulders, as Keith readied something slim and near translucent. He coated the stick, _selenite_ , Lance remembers, in an oil, before positioning it just below the cloud of smoke. He murmured something incorrigible, mouth moving too fast for Lance to even attempt to understand what he said, then he stabbed up.

There was a scream, whipping wind and a felling that could only be described as death, and then... nothing. The room was quiet, and felt empty. It was a relief to Lance, the tumult in his gut since relaxed, but Keith was...

"Hey? Buddy?" Lance rushed over to Keith's shuddering form, crumpled in the circle.

A pale hand shot up, Keith stayed down, face pressed into the tile and nipping grinds of clay. " _Don't_."

"Keith? What's wrong?" Lance reluctantly stepped back from the space, warily watching Keith as he rises. Closing the circle similar to how he opened it, burning herbs and unspoken words. Then the circle is destroyed, a sneaker clad foot swiping in it until the shape was unrecognizable.

Keith grabbed the flashlight he'd left precariously leaned against some old bags of chips, and walked out silently. Lance followed him, uncaring for the loud creak of the door hinge as it swung limply. The gravel ground under their shoes as the trekked across the barren lot to Lance's beat up truck.

"Care to tell me what happened in there?" Lance said as e climbed into the driver's seat.

"Not really," Keith said quietly, almost forcibly slowly.

"Keith," Lance grabbed the smaller man's shoulder, forcing Keith to look at him, "What happened?"

Lance tried not to pry too much about the rituals, how they worked or what it was that closed the rifts, but it's at this moment that he wishes he had. Lance feels left in the dark about it all, and up until he saw how it had affected the other man, he didn't care too much that he wasn't told about any of it. Now he feels a clawing need to know what just happened to Keith.

That rolling feeling in Lance's gut only worsens when Keith's eyes focus on him. The dark orbs are watery and scared.

"It's not usually like this," Keith assures, "It's really not, but-"

"What's different?" Lance pushed when Keith paused for  a minuet, "It looked the same, everything seemed to go by fine, there was just this scream-"

"It hurt," Keith chokes out, tongue reaching out to wet his cracked lips. "It was all the same, but there was this flash and then searing pain. Like I stabbed myself in the chest."

Lance turned in his seat, eyes darting across the horizon line of building silhouetted by the rising sun. The glow of the sky didn't reach them in the gravel lot, but it showed features to Lance he hadn't noticed before. The station's single gas pump, brightly colored similar to the rest of the paint on the building. It wasn't much different looking back at it, but the entire feel of the area was calmer. The result of the rift sealing, Lance guessed.

"What are the rifts."

"Uh... They're tears, between this plane and the next." Keith seems a little confused by the sudden question, but honest none the less. See, Lance appreciates his bluntness sometimes.

"Wait. What's the next plane?" Lance asked, confused, Keith never brought up planes. Sure, Lance understood the basicness of what Keith was conveying, he got the theory that there was multiple dimensions within space, but where would that put the other plane?

"There's a lot, but the one that interacts close enough with ours, the one that's able to tear into ours- it's like a spiritual place. When the space tares, it's-"

"Something trying to break back into our dimension?" Lance exclaims, "How is that possible?"

"Like I said," Keith groaned, "It's so close to ours, that it's nearly the same. When someone passes, it's like their after-image is left behind, they become something that's in the other plane only. It's sort of like the conservation of energy, it's not new, it just changes. Passes over, if you want to say. Sometimes, it gets too close. That's where you get rifts, but with energy comes the fact that when the rift is closed there's all this charge still left."

"What do you do with it?" Lance asks as he grabs the keys from his pocket and starts the engine. It rumbles to life with a noise that would be concerning if the car wasn't as old as Blue was.

"The circle. It binds the energy to me. Usually it feels like- like a rush. Like I have all this adrenaline pumped through me all of a sudden. This- it _hurt_." He sounded confused, as if he were as lost as Lance was.

"I wonder," He mumbled as Lance pulled out onto the road, "what's suddenly changed?"

The sun had risen enough to streak the sky a golden hue; and Lance, despite the calm, rift-less atmosphere, felt utterly scared.


	2. Dirty Laundry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok, so this obviously wasn't a week lol I really just wanted to write more of this universe, though. There's a lot of stuff I haven't fleshed out into the story yet, so its fun to write these. Like the other, it's unbeta'd, so if there are any mistakes, tell me and I'll fix them immediately. Also, I hope you guys all like the reference i was making in the chapter title haha. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!
> 
> if you like my stuff, talk to me on tumblr at captainsomnia.tumblr.com !

Keith was coughing up what Lance could only assume was his lungs at this point. The heaves sounded dry and painful after minuets of non-stop coughing and wheezing for air. The room was hushed as everyone wearily stared at Keith, unsure what to do.

"Hey, buddy, do you need some water or something?" Hunk offered, offering Keith's half empty cup to him.

Keith shook his head, gently pushing Hunk's hand back as he tried to calm his coughing fit. Shiro stepped forward, concern evident on his face, Keith rolled his eyes at his brother. He choked down the last few coughs successfully, pulling himself back to his full height with an overdone nonchalance.

"Are you sick?" Shiro asked, a hand moving to check Keith's temperature.

"Ugh," Pidge groaned, "please don't be sick, I have finals, man."

Lance was unsure how to approach the situation, Keith was fine last night, well enough to bolt out of another building they weren't supposed to be in.

The night had gone _spectacularly_ well. Everything that could have gone wrong that night, did exactly that. They got in fine, located the rift easily thanks to Keith, and quickly went about closing it. Except, when Keith went to go stab the rift, the same thing that had happened two days prior reared back it's ugly head. There was whipping wind and Keith let out an unholy shriek of pain. He collapsed, but once they heard the stomping of boots and several louds demands asking why they were there, Lance managed to pull the other boy to his feet. They bolted as fast as they could, smearing the circle just enough for Keith to stop protesting, and were almost caught by the two security guards when they tripped over each other's feet. Thankfully enough, they weren't arrested for trespassing because Lance had the idea to keep the car running and they managed to accelerate out of there.

"I'm fine," Keith tried to say, only to be cut off by a sharp cough.

"Are you sure?" Lance was scared, although he'd hate to admit it. The rifts were just seeming to become more and more of a burden on Keith.

"Yeah," He said weakly, meeting Lance's pleading, worried eyes with hesitation. "I'm fine, Lance. It's just a cough."

"It is starting to get colder out, maybe it's just that?" Hunk mused. Shiro seemed to take that as a good enough explanation and backed off slightly, Lance continued to bore holes in the side of Keith's messy mullet head.

Pidge eyed Lance with morbid curiosity in their sleep addled mind. They smacked their hands on the table loudly and stood, "Hey Lance, you wanna grab a snack with me."

Lance's gaze softened on his childhood friend, "Yeah, dude, what do you want to get?"

"Not sure yet," They said as Lance strolled with them to the cafeteria's snack station.

The line was long, small clumps of students piled like clots in the line. Mingling and speaking as they waited patiently for their turn. Pidge turned over to Lance, only to catch the boy staring intently across the cafeteria.

They sighed, "Who're you staring at, Lance?"

"Hm?" He focused on the young student next to him, "Staring? I wasn't staring at anything?"

Lance's voice went up an octave too high to be believable, Pidge rolled their eyes, "When are you going to ask him out."

Lance sputtered, a mix between choking on spit and a hysterical laugh, "Wha-what are you talking about? I don't know who you are insinuating-"

"Keith is what I'm insinuating."

"Pidge!" Lance playfully smacked them upside the head, "I do not have a thing for that mullet."

"Oh," They scoffed, "You're right, Lance, you don't have a thing for Keith. You just have a giant non-platonic cluster of emotions toward him."

Lance gaped dumbly for a minute, before recovering. "Take out the 'non' and you got that correct, Pidge-pie."

Pidge glowered up at Lance, "What's the one thing I've proven to you?"

Lance rolled his eyes, entire body moving dramatically with the motion, "What?"

"I'm always right, Lance." They took pride in watching Lance flush in embarrassment as they walked up to the woman selling food.

The walk back to the table was quiet, Lance was gnawing at his bottom lip, lost in deep thought. Pidge briefly wondered if they pushed him too far, but was relieved to see the slight smile on Lance's chapped lips.

"Took you guys long enough," Keith mumbled, voice still raw from coughing.

"What? It was only a minuet," Lance laughed, trying to hide his previous confused feelings and act normal.

Shiro snorted, "Minute too long for Keith."

That comment earned a solid smack on the arm from his younger sibling. Shiro let out a yelp of pain and rubbed his arm with an expression of faux hurt.

The school bell rung loudly, and Lance watched Keith jump in slight shock from the piercing sound. Slowly, the table lifted themselves up, gathering their things and exiting the cafeteria along with the onslaught of other students.

They group went their separate ways through the halls to their respective classes, Lance waved off the group, turning down the tech wing to reach photography.

"Lance!" He swiveled around toward the voice.

Keith was pushing through the crowd of students, coughing and heaving for air. Lance reached out to steady him when he got close enough. Keith's indigo eyes were foggy and he swayed a little dangerously when he skidded to a halt in front of Lance.

"Whoa, dude, are you sure you're alright?" Lance was getting that gnawing feeling in his gut, something was really wrong.

"I told you, I'm fine," He waved off Lance's concern, "but I came to ask if you drove Blue to school today."

"Yeah, why?"

"There's another rift, the Laundromat on main street?"

It's always a fucking rift. Always a rift in some weird area. Always a place Lance didn't want to be. The Laundromat was no exception, lights old and greying over, one flickering at the far corner of the main room. The tile was grimy and cracked from years upon years  of wear. The steel of the whirring machines even managed to become stained and sticky. Everyone in the Laundromat was staring at them with shifting glances, like they didn't belong there.

Luckily, Keith thought of that already.

They had stopped at Lance's on the way and grabbed his bed sheets and blankets- Keith insists that this is the first time in months that they're being properly cleaned while Lance begs to differ about his cleaning habits- something that would take long enough to do the ritual.

Coming at three was a good time it seemed, too. There was only two people besides them in the washette. The young woman working at the desk was thumbing through her phone absently and the older man waiting for his clothes to dry was listening to his headphones and falling asleep.

Lance walked to the farthest washing machine, attempting to block Keith as he stood in the corner, prepping the area for the circle.

"What're we going to do about the smoke?" Lance asked, "Wont they smell it?"

Keith shrugged, "You're a hipster, just say it's your incense sticking to your clothes or something."

Lance gasped, "I refuse to accept that you just told me that."

"What," Keith smirked as he spread the salt, "that you're a hipster? Well you should, because you are one."

"I am not," Lance said resolutely, watching the store attendant in the corner of his eye to make sure she didn't see Keith.

"You're wearing joggers, a flannel, a beanie, and work boots," Keith pointed out, "and you complain every day you can't get any coffee from that hole in the wall a block from the school."

"Ok, Coran's coffee is what keeps me going through this torture called school," Lance growled, "and everyone wears what I'm wearing. This is a normal outfit."

"Sure," Keith snorted. Lance heated up at the small smile Keith gave him before he made the clay sigils in the circle.

Maybe Pidge was right, Lance reasoned, it's not like he really had a reason not to like Keith. Keith was likable. He was less annoying than he used to be now that they'd started doing this... thing. Their old rivalry was gone and dissipated into some friendship that was almost closer than Pidge and he were.

"Hey," Keith whispered, "If she starts looking over here, try to distract her for me, ok?"

"How do you want me to do that, smart one?" Lance scoffed.

"I don't know," Keith hissed, "flirt with her or something. That should be enough to make her leave to the brake room."

Nope, Lance thought, not Keith. Never Keith.

"Whatever, man," He folded his arms and slouched down in one of the chairs scattered about the place. It was once a bright color, but since it had become a white washed version of it's former paint.

Lance noticed that the room was unlike most of the places that were stuck with rifts in them, this place didn't cause him to automatically think 'abort' in the same way other places had. Instead of fear, Lance felt a rolling disgust in his stomach. A feeling like this was somewhere he shouldn't be still laid heavily across all of his senses, but now more that it was grimy. Every smell of stale detergent and each sticky step across the tile only solidified the idea. This part of the rift was just an amplifier, not as heavy or horrible as some other ones could be, one once making Lance flat out unable to step inside the place.

Keith lit the incense, and Lance felt a cold sweat brake out on his hair line as he watched if any of the people in the Laundromat noticed him as he went about the procedure. He could smell the smoke of the dried herbs and saw how it rolled in a thick cloud near his head, stopping a point just above his head.

Lance worried his lip as he waited with baited breath for one of the two to look over at them, but then, the older man finally fell asleep and the attendant sat down a few minuets later in a chair that was low enough to block out the rest of the Laundromat from her line of sight. Lance fell back into his chair with a sigh, relaxing fully as he turned to watch Keith hold up the stick of selenite just below the unseen barrier above the smoke.

Lance's gut rolled at the idea of Keith doing this. The rift could be minor, but after what happened the last two rifts, he was scared to allow his friend to do this again.

Keith murmured something fast, backward, forward, Latin or English- Lance couldn't tell, but he did know that the voice Keith said them in sent shivers down his own spine.

He thrust the crystal upward.

It was silent.

No wind, no scream of absolute pain, nothing. Lance sighed in relief. Then, he watched as Keith's muscles tightened up and shook.

"Keith," Lance whispered, "are you alright?"

The boy's hand fell to his temples and his mouth opened in a silent scream. Lance panicked, racing forward when he thought Keith was going to crumple in a heap where he sat. Instead, he slowly moved into Lance, steadily leaning heavier on him as the seconds passed. Lance helped him up and over to the pink chair that Lance had been occupying before.

When he tilted Keith's head back to ask him what happened, he noticed a steady stream of blood coming from his nose. The thick liquid almost looked black in the lighting they were in. Lance felt his skin crawl.

"Keith, are you alright?" Lance spoke in a whisper that still managed to be too loud for Keith's tastes, the black haired boy held his head in pain.

"The circle," Keith groaned. Lance made hast wrecking the near pristine circle that Keith made, smearing the clay and salt until it mingled with the dirt and soap on the floor.

"My head..." Lance whipped his attention back to Keith, who was still holding his head in pain.

"Hey, have you ever thought that, I dunno," Lance trailed, "You should give it a break? It's not like your the only one doing these things, right? Why don't you rest for a while, until get your strength back?"

Keith blindly agreed, nodding like a bobble head, messy hair bouncing with him. "Yeah... a break sounds nice."

Lance pulls up a chair next to Keith, reaching over to one of the washing machines to grab the small box of tissues there. He reached forward and gently dabbed at the blood drying now on Keith's pale face, attempting to stop the stream on his neck from dripping down to his shirt. Keith stayed near limp, save for his soft groans of pain when he was moved too fast.

"And when we finish washing this," Lance grinned at the tired, watery eyes blinking up at him, "We grab some dinner. How's that sound, mullet-head?"

Dinner, as it turned out, was McDonald's from the rest stop on the highway because everything else was either closed or written off by Lance. Keith was asleep in the passenger seat, curled up and relaxed for what seemed like the first time that night. His face was slack and vulnerable in a way that made Lance's heart pound in his ears. He sighed, checking the green, flashing numbers on the dash and cursing to himself. It was almost eleven at night.

"Shit." Frantically, Lance pulled out his phone and called Shiro.

The other end of the line was just as panicked as Lance expected it to be. "Lance? Are you okay? Have you seen Keith? I've been trying to call him for a while! He said you guys would be here around nine! What happened?"

Shiro didn't know about the rifts, Lance knew Keith wasn't too keen on telling Shiro about them, but Lance had no idea what he should've told him instead.

"Uhm... we were really busy doing stuff! Lots of stuff! And then I had laundry to do! And Keith just fell asleep so he must have forgot to call you," Lance blurted. "We're at the McDonald's on the interstate right now, I'm really hungry."

"Wait... what?" Shiro sound equal parts exasperated and amused.

"What's wrong?" Lance was praying his story sounded good enough to have Shiro quit questioning him.

"You two were doing what exactly?" Lance prayers were unanswered, then.

"Uh," Lance swallowed loudly, "stuff."

"Stuff."

"Yeah," Lance's voice breaks slightly from stress.

"And this stuff, it kept both you and Keith too busy?"

"Yep," Lance let out a horrendously scared laugh. "Very busy. For a while."

There was only silence on the other line. Lance's hand became clammy and Keith was starting to wake up next to him, as if sensing Lance's fear.

"Lance," Shiro spoke in his stern, no-messing-around voice. "I am going to ensure that I can trust you enough to know that you've been safe and were using protection when-"

Lance screamed. "No! No, that is not what happened! We are not talking about this! We'll be over in a little bit I have to wake Keith up and get him food! Goodbye!"

keoth was awake, groggily rubbing his eyes and curling up smaller in the seat as if it would stop Lance's cries.

"What's wrong? Why're you screaming?" He grumbled.

"Shiro thinks we have fornicated."

"What."

"He thinks we've done coitus-"

"No, you dumbass, I want to know what the hell lead to this happening!"

"I called and said we were busy!" Lance yelled back.

"Busy doing what?" Keith screeched.

Lance waved his hands in a frantic manner, "Stuff!"

"Stuff?" Keith gawked in disbelief, "That's all you said?"

"What was I supposed to say!"

"I don't know!"

Keith was flushing down to his neck and looked thoroughly embarrassed. He burried his head in his hands and screamed. Lance felt close to doing the same thing.

"I mean- it could be worse?" Lance tried to console, only for Keith to near leap across the middle console to grasp at Lance's button up and pull him close.

"Lance, he thinks we fucked," he yelled, indigo eyes watery and very close. They were dark and in the lighting of the lamps in the parking lot, they sparkled and reminded Lance of sapphires. "What's he going to say when we get home? Oh my god, he's going to try to give me the talk!"

Lance laughed at that, and then continued laughing. He laughed away the butterflies in his stomach and the hammering of his heart and didn't stop until Keith was doing the same, laughing as little tears came from his eyes. They didn't stop until it hurt, and then after that, Lance still let punched-out gales of breath in its place. When they got out of the car and into McDonald's, Lance totally didn't flirt with the girl taking their order, if only to prove something to himself. And Keith didn't get angry enough at Lance to hit him. And Lance wouldn't admit that he liked Keith getting angry over Lance's flirting. Above all else, Lance certainly did not blurt that he loved those inquisitive indigo eyes out loud as they are French fries, making Keith flush to his collarbones again.

The only thing Lance can look forward to is that these late night escapades to close up rifts were going to end.

**Author's Note:**

> By next week or so, the next chapter should be up! Hope you liked it!


End file.
